Double or Nothing
by peppymint
Summary: Being left to freeze to death by the woman you love is never the best way to start your day. But hey, there is really nowhere to go but up.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one_

_Note: First off, all of you looking for a sad fix, full of angst and Remy torture. Well, you are in the wrong place. Some of you who read my other stuff may find this chapter a bit familiar, but I figured there was no need to come up with a totally new one when I had a perfectly good beginning already. So, I did a bit of rewriting and adjusted the point of view. I think it turned out pretty good._

_And now that that's out of the way. _

_Here we go, my long awaited X-men fic, Double or Nothing_

**Chapter One**

Remy's heart caught in his throat. After all the X-men's preaching about forgiveness and second chances, they couldn't seriously be intending to leave him? Right? Obviously, a cynical voice mentally pointed out as the vehicle carrying his former comrades disappeared into the distance, they were.

Feelings of disbelief quickly disappeared, turning into rage. Gambit preferred that emotion anyway, at least in comparison to a numbness that had nothing to do with cold. Those ^*&%(*&)^ hypocrites! How dare they! So much for your past not mattering. Apparently that only applied if they didn't find out about it.

The Cajun didn't really know Maggot or Trudy all that well, and as for Joseph. Well, Remy couldn't really blame the amnesic man for wanting him out of the way. Beast's betrayal had hurt though. However, what truly pissed him off was the reactions of Rouge and Archangel.

His girlfriend (well ex-girlfriend considering she had just abandoned him in Antarctica) had been a terrorist before the X-men had taken her in. And as for Warren, did the name Death ring any bells? Between the two of them, they had shed enough blood to make Remy's own hands seem clean by comparison.

_But sugar, _the mutant thief could almost hear Rouge's southern drawl. _That was different, she is my Momma. _

_Ah oui_, the thief thought bitterly. With her it was always different. But God forbid he ever make a mistake. Though if you asked Gambit, his ex had outdone her Mother with this stunt. Raven at least would have had the decency to put a bullet in his brain. If only to ensure Remy really was dead.

Oh sure, Rouge had claimed it was his own choice whether he lived or died. However, Remy just couldn't see it. All alone in Antarctica, no food or supplies, not even a decent jacket. Just him, the ice, and the penguins. Idly Gambit wondered if the flightless birds were edible before returning to the topic at hand. To be honest, things weren't looking good.

Still the Cajun knew he had to try. After all, a slim chance was better than no chance at all, and Remy was a survivor. He always had been. If his death would give him absolution for his part in the massacre, Gambit would have taken that path long ago. However, he knew it wouldn't. The Morlocks were gone, and nothing would change that. As such, simply lying down and waiting to die just wasn't an option.

A wan smirk passed over the slender man's face, a pale imitation of his usual grin. "Remy guess it be a good thing he neva show all his cards _non_," he whispered aloud. Reaching the Savage Land was a long shot, but really it was his only hope. Another would have been hopelessly lost in the desolate landscape, but not Gambit. His finely tuned spatial awareness was better than a compass.

An icy cold wind ruffled the Cajun's hair, cutting through his clothes as though they were nonexistent. Remy did not allow the discomfort to deter him. Carefully, he called up his biokinetic charge, using it to raise both his internal and external temperature. Then, he set his shoulders, and began to walk.

Gambit had no idea exactly how far he walked. His body was, for the most part, on autopilot. The only thing that mattered was placing one foot in front of the other. He knew that if he stopped, he would never start again. Which meant he would die, Remy didn't want to die.

"Hey punk," the voice came out of nowhere.

A pair of red on black eyes blinked, slowly coming into focus. The glare off the ice and snow had been harsh on his light sensitive eyes. Standing in front of him was an all too familiar figure. Six and a half feet tall, nearly four hundred pounds, with vicious looking claws on the end of each finger. Claws that Remy knew from previous experience were wickedly sharp.

It was impossible to mistake the blond for anyone else. But what was the other doing here? After a moment of contemplation, Remy reached what seemed to be a reasonable explanation. "Wonderful," the thief muttered to himself. "Just wonderful, now Gambit be hallucinating." That did not bode well for his chances of survival.

Mournfully he rolled his eyes heavenward, addressing a God he wasn't sure gave a damn about him. "You couldn't have sent dis poor Cajun some _belle femmes _instead." Remy looked back at the blond. "Granted," he acknowledged. "It be a _tres bon _likeness. Looks just like _Chatton." _Hebrushed his empathy against the other's feral presence. "Feels like him too."

The Cajun continued to walk forward, only to run smack dab into Creed's not so intangible mystique. Gambit stumbled backwards, his usual grace deserting him as he tumbled into the snow. His demonic orbs blinked again, looking up at the feral in incomprehension. "You know _Monsieur_, for a hallucination, you be awfully solid."

Victor just sighed. As though dealing with the younger man wasn't trying enough under normal circumstances. But perhaps, it was better this way. At least the kid hadn't started throwing exploding cards yet. He reached down, yanking Gambit up and over one shoulder in a fireman's carry. The other hand moved to tap his communicator. "Sabertooth to base, I got him."

A moment later, the only indications the pair had ever been there were the indentations in the snow. Soon enough, even those would vanish.

_DNDNDNDNDNDN_

_I know, it is not proven Gambit has empathy_

_It is just a theory. But it is my story._

_Plus, he'll need it later_

_Hope you enjoyed and please share your thoughts_

_If I like something, I might add it to the fic_


	2. Chapter 2

_I own nothing and no one_

_Was originally intending to post "From Avalon's Shores"_

_Lucky for any X-men fans, this is what came out_

**Chapter Two**

It was at this point that Remy made several realizations. One, it was warm. Two, Creed was still holding him. Three, Sinister was also in the room, an immeasurably smug look on his pale features. And four, had he mentioned it was warm. Conclusion, this was real. _Merde_.

Gambit started to struggle immediately. "Put. Me. Down." He snarled at the feral. Sabertooth dropped him at once, though not quite fast enough to avoid catching an elbow to the face. The Cajun stumbled slightly as he landed, but managed to retain his feet.

Carefully, Remy took a few prudent steps away from the balefully glaring Sabertooth while not taking his eyes off his, shall we say host. Everyone in the room knew full well who the greatest threat was. Pretending otherwise was just foolish.

Casually Sinister rose to his feet. He moved as though he had all the time in the world. Which in all honesty, was not that far from the truth. His red eyes flicked to Victor briefly. "Leave us."

Creed did not hesitate to comply with the demand, turning on his heel and exiting the room. The feral had to admit some interest in what the boss wanted from the other, besides the obvious that is. However, he was also well aware of the saying curiosity killed the cat. It wasn't worth his life to pry into Essex's affairs.

Remy meanwhile glared, his own eyes flashing with an inner fire. Under normal circumstances, it would have looked more impressive. Some would say intimidating. But, the fact his entire body was shivering madly somehow negated the full effect. If he could have, he would have stopped it. The thief despised showing any sort of weakness in front of the other.

A laugh escaped Sinister's throat and he glided across the floor towards the younger man. "There is no need to look at me like that my boy," he said softly. His movements were somewhat reminiscent of that of a snakes. "You didn't honestly think I would leave you to freeze."

Ouch, now that had hurt. There was no doubt in Gambit's mind the sociopathic scientist had intended it that way. A not so subtle reminder of how he had ended up in this situation. The unspoken hint that a man he despised cared more about his well being than the team he had fought beside for years.

The red on black eyes narrowed further. If looks could kill, the other would have been incinerated on the spot. Briefly the Cajun bemoaned the loss of his full powers. Why oh why hadn't he blown Sinister to kingdom come when he had the chance? Now it was too late, far too late.

"I didn't ask for your help," the thief spat. It took all his nerve to hold his ground as the other moved even closer. There was nowhere to go after all, and he had no intention of letting Sinister know he was afraid.

"And yet," the madman chuckled. "I don't see you demanding to be put back either."

Remy's lips thinned. But he said nothing. Of course he hadn't, pride was one thing. However, blatant stupidity was something else entirely. Asking to be returned to the southern continent was tantamount to suicide, and Gambit wanted to live. He always had.

The odds of escaping this situation in one piece were better than his chances out on the barren plains of Antarctica. Not, another portion of the Cajun's mind pointed out. That Sinister actually would put him back, even if he did ask. And how sad was it, the thief wondered. That the older man was the only one who had never let Gambit down when he really needed help?

As he examined his latest acquisition, Sinister frowned. The other did not look at all well. He raised one pale hand to place it against the lithe figure's forehead. Gambit was freezing. Bits of ice and snow melting to run in rivets down the thief's tanned skin. In spite of his best efforts to hide how shitty he felt, a violent tremor wracked Remy's body.

This caused the geneticist's frown to deepen. He pointed at the nearby couch imperialistically. "Sit down my boy," he ordered.

Remy stiffened, both in response to the command itself and its tone. There was no way he was going to get in the habit of obeying Essex again. He had learned his lesson the first time. "I'm fine thank you," he said politely.

Crimson eyes narrowed, a displeased look crossing Sinister's pale features. "Remiel," he growled warningly.

Gambit knew that expression. It seemed reserved especially for him. Roughly translated, it meant something like this. _I tire of your futile rebellion child. Now do as I say or else. _Mentally, the thief weighed to pros and cons of defying the man before sulkily sinking into the couch. "Hate you," he muttered.

The scientist raised one aristocratic brow. "I fear I will never recover from the blow." He pulled a penlight out of one pocket and shined it in Remy's eyes causing the mutant to flinch. Ignoring the expected complaints, Essex continued his examination. By the time he had finished, the younger man's head had lolled to one side. Red on black eyes sliding shut.

Sinister sighed softly, carefully lowering Remy to lay flat against the couch. That the young man had willingly fallen asleep in his presence spoke volumes about his current condition. A blanket was retrieved and thrown over the slender figure. He had plans for the thief, many of them. But Essex was a patient man, he could afford to wait.

_Omake_

_This scene is too short to be its own chapter. But it didn't fit in with the next either._

It was a few hours later when the Marauders' curiosity brought them calling. Several heads cautiously poking into the room. They knew the boss had retrieved Gambit, but they didn't know quite what had happened.

Gray Crow was the first to enter, padding in on silent feet. The others followed, quailing as they met red eyes.

"Do not wake him," Sinister mouthed, sitting on the armrest above the sleeping figure. He placed a handheld thermometer in Remy's ear, quickly checking his temperature. The younger man had a fever, but not a bad one. As long as it didn't get worse, there was no reason to move him.

The Cajun stirred at the contact. His nose wrinkling in discomfort. The group could see his eyes moving beneath the lids as he began the climb back to consciousness. Remy shifted, moving away from the back of the couch.

Pale fingers stroked through auburn hair. An instinctive gesture meant to relax his patient. Slowly, it worked. The sleeping figure growing still once more. After a moment, a soft rumble filled the room, causing the group to look around in confusion. What on earth was that?

It was Scalphunter who figured it out first. A smile crossing his face as he tried not to laugh. "It's Remy," he whispered. "He's purring."

The others quickly realized he was right, struggling to mask their own giggles. Remy really was purring. But then, they later considered. The thief always had possessed cat like tendencies. This was just one more trait to add to the pile.

_Hope you liked it and please review_

_Not sure when next chapter will be up_

_But it is all figured out. Just needs typed_


	3. Chapter 3

_I own nothing and no one_

_Major bummer that_

**Chapter Three**

"Achoo!" a violent sneeze erupted from Remy's nose. This sucked. However, the Cajun knew his jaunt out on the ice could have had far worse complications than a simple cold. Pneumonia for instance, if not something worse. A wave of dread moved through his body as he thought about that.

Yes, Remy had been very lucky. His hands were still a bit stiff, but that faded more with each passing hour. A bit longer though and he could have ended up with a serious case of frostbite, permanent nerve damage. Which would have certainly been the end of his career, a thief needs steady hands.

Slowly Gambit inched a bit further from his _doctor. _In all honestly, there really wasn't anywhere left to scoot. As it was, the Cajun was perched precariously on the very edge of the examination table. One good shove was all it would take to knock him to the floor, even with his balance.

"Remiel," Sinister sounded faintly displeased as he looked up from his notes. "If you do not cease that immediately I will have no choice but to have Scalphunter and Vertigo tie you down." It wasn't as though he was hurting the other. "Really," the scientist sighed faintly. "You act as though I have cooties."

Remy froze, staring at the older man with wide eyes. His previous comment about Vertigo tying him down being somewhat pleasant under the right circumstances completely forgotten as it died in his throat. The thief coughed, using the distraction to regain a bit of his wits. "I can't believe you just said dat."

Sinister took the opportunity to grasp his patient firmly by the bicep, yanking him more fully onto the table. "This is for your own good my boy," he completely ignored Gambit's previous comment. "It will not benefit you should you relapse." He injected something into the thief's arm.

Gambit didn't even bother to protest the shot. It wasn't as though it would do any good. "I don't see why you care anyhow," he huffed leaning back against the headrest. The Cajun did not expect an answer, however he was surprised.

"In truth my boy," Sinister purred, now sounding insufferably pleased with himself. "I am a little disappointed you haven't figured that out by now."

A pair of red on black eyes narrowed suspiciously, a long held though flitting through his head. It was something he had considered on and off over the years, but had never really dwelled on. To be honest, he tried not to think about it.

"Figured out what?" Gambit asked cautiously. Mentally though, he was crossing his fingers. _Please don't say it, _he prayed. _Pretty please, with sugar on top. _In retrospect, the Cajun thought he shouldn't have said anything. He didn't really want to know. No such luck.

"You see Remiel, I am your Father."

The Cajun groaned dramatically, whacking his head back against the hard surface. "_Merde,_"he swore. "You just had to say it." Remy paused for a moment. "So is there a Mother in this picture or. . ." he let the question linger in the air, his fingers moving in a _you know _gesture.

The pale man's amused expression slid into one of distaste. "Certainly not," in fact Sinister seemed slightly insulted. "You are the accumulation of decades of genetic research and experimentation."

For a moment, Remy studied the features of his _Father _before shrugging. "_D'accord._" He stretched back out against the table.

Sinister frowned peering down at Remy's face. Perhaps the other was feeling worse than he believed. "You are taking this far better than I anticipated my son," he commented. No yelling, no denials, it was unlike the younger man to say the least.

"So Remy be a test tube baby, probably some weird combination of cloning and genetic engineering. I can deal." He looked up at the gathered group through coy eyes, a faint smirk crossing his features. " 'S far preferable to the thought of you having sex."

Vertigo couldn't help it. She clamped one hand over her mouth, face going as green as her hair. Then she rushed out of the room, nearly knocking Scrambler over on her way out.

Gambit just rolled his eyes. "Cast iron stomach that one."

_DNDNDNDNDNDN_

_Hope you liked it, and now_

_**For An Important Author's Note!!!**_

_Good news for me: Going to Morocco in two weeks_

_Bad news for you: Will be gone 2 years 3 months_

_Good news for me: Taking both notebooks and laptop_

_Bad news for you: Probably only get internet access once per month_

_Good news for everybody: Will update as often as I can_

_Bad news for everybody: Won't be as often as I want_


	4. Chapter 4

_I own nothing and no one_

**Chapter Four**

"Dis," Remy announced to the world at large, including any incredibly nosy psychics that happened to be listening in. "Is _tres _uncool." Sometime between his arrival and the current time, his usual outfit had vanished to be replaced with a pair of sweats. Just as well, it had been more or less ruined anyway.

Resisting the urge to pout, the thief leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands. His red on black eyes going distant as he considered his current predicament. No doubt about it, this was not of the good. Not at all.

Gambit huffed, one hand coming up to jerk ineffectively at his neck. Damn this thing, it itched. Not to mention, the metal power restraining collar felt far heavier than it had any right to be. The Cajun figured that was probably just his imagination. A figment of his not so normal mind, but then sanity was overrated.

Still, while insanity was one thing, stupidity was quite another. It went without saying that Remy had been planning his escape since the moment Sabertooth had dragged his half frozen carcass through the tesseract portal. Okay, maybe half a second after that. The point remained.

However, it seemed the opportune moment had come and passed. Needless to say, Gambit had missed it. Hence, his presence here. The young man sighed, once again examining his accommodations in the unlikely event he had missed something useful. Nope, the room (_cough:cell:cough) _was just as he remembered it.

Eight by twelve feet, with some sort of fungus growing along the ceiling. The plant giving off a bioluminescent glow. A futon was neatly folded in one corner next to a stack of books. Remy's favorite authors of course, and how disturbing was it that Sinister knew who his favorite authors were.

There was also a small bathroom built into one corner, much to the thief's relief. Though the thief wasn't sure whether it was an irritation or a blessing that the pipes were clearly too small to crawl through. It prevented him from having to make unpleasant decisions.

Speaking of his newly discovered Father, the man had been by only once. It hadn't been much of a conversation. Essex had asked how he was. Remy had replied with a comment that the room lacked something, followed by inquiring if the man would let him out if he promised to behave himself. Sinister had laughed, saying that he wasn't foolish enough to take Gambit at his word. Smart man. And that was that, though the encounter did beg the question of _when _the other was going to let him out. It had been more than a week already.

Remy sighed again, rolling onto his back to stare at the ceiling. In spite of what an outside observer would believe, Sinister wasn't trying to cause him any undue discomfort. His surroundings weren't meant to unnerve him or anything. It was just that the doctor didn't trust him not to escape given the slightest opportunity.

The barrenness of the room was akin to a backhanded compliment. The light from the weird fungus stuff was more than enough for Gambit's sensitive eyes to see by. Besides, the mutant had endured far, far worse conditions during his childhood. For one thing, this room was heated.

Speaking of, why had he ended up on the streets? Remy made a mental note to ask his Father sometime. Given the lengths Sinister had taken to keep him close over the years, there was no way he hadn't wanted him. If he had been adopted by anyone less influential than Jean-Luc Lebeau, Essex probably would have just snatched him back. Something must have happened.

At least he wouldn't starve, the Cajun considered, his thoughts turning back to the matter at hand. He glanced over at his untouched plate. He had been to five star restaurants that served worse cuisine. For a moment Remy stared at the meal before rolling into a sitting position. He wasn't really hungry, but the young man knew better than to turn down food when it was offered. You never knew when you would eat next.

Evidently pork chops were the order of the day. Remy preferred seafood, but that was the one thing he wasn't served. Yes, he had asked after the third day. Sinister seemed to be worried he would open his collar using a crab claw or something. Which, the Cajun admitted to himself, he probably would. Picking up the oddly shaped silverware (also designed in order to foil the thief's plans) he began to eat.

Remy's mind was only half on his task, letting his body go through the motions of the familiar task while his thoughts were occupied with more important things. There had to be a way out of this. He was the prince of thieves damn it all, and there wasn't a lock on this earth he couldn't pick, given enough time. Clink, his square-shaped knife made an odd sound as it impacted the middle of the pork.

Clink? Gambit wondered. Now that was an odd sound, all things considered. A faint frown crossed his face as he picked the meat up, examining it from all angles. It took a moment for him to realize exactly what he was seeing. Once he did, his red on black eyes widened in surprise. It wasn't gristle running through the middle of the pork, it was bone.

A feral grin crossed Remy's face, all thoughts of eating disappearing entirely. Stripping the meat off, he examined his prize. It was better than he had thought actually. The bone was long and thin, but still a little blunt on the ends. However, the thief asserted to himself. He could fix that.

And fix it he did, as several hours later the Cajun had a very serviceable lock pick. Which Remy immediately put to use, the click as his collar unlocked was a beautiful sound. His powers returned to him in a rush, including his empathic abilities. Something the thief was grateful for.

As annoying as Gambit sometimes found them, he always felt blind and deaf when they were off. They were a part of him, as vital as his eyes. His grin widened, the skin around his cheeks actually starting to hurt. _Phase One_, he thought to himself, _complete. _Now all he had to do was wait. Yes, things certainly were looking up.

_DNDNDNDNDNDN_

_Please Review_

_I love to know what you think_

_Hope to get the next chapter up this week_

_So cross your fingers_


	5. Chapter 5

_I own no one and nothing_

_Hah! I got it up_

_Isn't that a shock_

**Chapter Five**

Remy sat cross legged on the floor of his cell, eyes closed. Patience had never been one of his defining virtues, but he understood its import. The Cajun knew he would only get one shot at this, and he didn't intend to screw it up. It would do him no good to blow the walls and walk straight into the Marauders waiting hands.

For one, unlike Cyclops, he wasn't immune to his own powers. Lucky S.O.B. It would hardly be the highlight of the professional thief's career to be found unconscious in his cell. For another, the Marauders outnumbered him at least six to one, probably more depending on who was around at any given moment. And that wasn't even counting Sinister. Not to mention the fact that Remy was totally unarmed. They had even taken his cards.

Nope, there would be no dramatic explosions this time. No running through the base as though he was John fuckin' McClain. Personally Remy blamed Jubilee for the fact he had sat through a movie where the cop was the main character. Although, he had to admit the man had style.

Getting back on topic, subtlety was definitely the order of the day. That was okay though. Gambit had never understood why the X-men didn't seem to view a mission as a success unless they had destroyed something. He supposed that was why they were heroes and he was a thief.

Cautiously, using every trick he had picked up through a lifetime of practice. Every scrap of knowledge he had gleaned from the X-men's resident psychics, Remy probed the complex he was being held in. He had done this several times before. Always careful to avoid the curious blankness that was Sinister's presence. His Father was a skilled telepath after all.

A smirk crossed the thief's features. It seemed luck was on his side. Not only was the doctor out, but he had taken Creed with him. Thus eliminating what Gambit viewed as the two greatest obstacles to his escape. The other Marauders had their own talents true, but none of them but Chat could track him.

There wasn't going to be a better time than now to make his move the Cajun knew. He just needed to get out of the cell. Preferably without alerting everyone who was left. Remy didn't want any of them to know he had escaped until he was well and truly gone.

And unless he missed his guess, that opportunity would be coming along right about now. Gambit's grin widened as a small panel opened, a plate of food being slid inside. Perfect.

"Foods done," came Arclight's familiar voice. It was somewhat galling for the body builder to be reduced to the equivalent of a waitress. But like the others in Mr. Sinister's _employ. _She knew far better than to cross the other.

"_Merci," _Remy thanked her. "You are as generous as you are beautiful." Yeah, it was a little over the top. But he didn't need it to be perfect. He just needed an opening.

The woman snorted. "Flatterer." She moved to slide the panel shut.

"Aw come on chere," Gambit carefully wove his charm into the hastily spoken words. "Have a heart. I've been stuck in here forever." Okay, more like a week and a half, but it felt like forever.

Gambit knew he had to be careful. If Arclight realized what he was up to, it would be all over. Those who knew of his charm had always been less susceptible to it than strangers. Probably because they were more on guard around him. However, the other still thought he was collared.

"Oh all right," Arclight sighed, leaning against the outside wall. "What do you want to talk about?"

Remy shrugged, even though she couldn't see it. "You know who won the game?" he inquired adding a bit of extra zest to his words.

A pair of dark eyes rolled in their sockets, and Arclight almost walked away, but she didn't. "Don't know," the woman drawled. "Don't care."

The Cajun laughed. A low chuckle that sent chills down the woman's spine. "Point," he acknowledged. "So you seeing anyone?"

Arclight blinked in surprise. "You can't be serious?" she gasped.

"Why not?" came the reply. "I seem to be sticking around, and Rouge made it clear we are over." For good, this time. "Come one," Remy teased turning the charm up a notch. "You have to admit we had some good times."

Almost against her will the woman found herself smiling. "Yeah," she admitted. They had had some good times. "But that was a long time ago. Besides," she added. "You're in there, and I'm out here."

"We don't have to be," Gambit purred seductively.

"I am not letting you out," Arclight said flatly. Just how stupid did he think she was.

"Of course not," Remy was quick to respond sounding cut to the quick. "I was thinking you could come in here."

She could come in there, the Marauder considered. Now that was a great idea. Why hadn't she thought of it before? Strong hands reached out to open the door, revealing Gambit's handsome face.

"Hey chere," the Cajun breathed stepping forward. Then his lips were on hers in a fervent kiss that turned Arclight to putty in his hands. It wasn't hard to fake the emotion considering she had just given him his freedom.

The woman didn't even notice as Remy maneuvered them so that she was the one closer to the cell. As the kiss ended, Arclight opened her lust filled eyes to see the thief's apologetic features.

"_Desolee," _Gambit apologized seemingly sincere as he shoved her backwards into the cell. The door closed with a final sounding clang, cutting off the other's rage filled scream. Red on black eyes swept from one end of the hallway to the other. It was empty, just the way he wanted it.

The Cajun began his journey towards freedom. Senses alert for any sort of disturbance with each silent step he took. Gambit hadn't some this far to screw it up now. His only priority was to get away, far away. Do not collect go. Do not collect two hundred dollars.

It was somewhat of a pity really. He had liked his old coat. But he certainly wasn't going to stick around to find it. It wasn't worth his life, and he could always replace it. Truthfully, there were very few things in this life that couldn't be.

_DNDNDNDNDNDNDN_

_Sorry if Arclight is OOC_

_Don't really know much about her_

_On another note, leaving on Sunday_

_I think there is only one more chapter after this_

_Maybe two if I include an epilogue with Remy coming to terms_

_So I will try to get them up in the nearish future_

_I think we will have internet while in the capital _


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one_

_Anyway, now that that is settled_

_Greetings from Morocco_

_Honestly, I had hoped to have this up before I left the States_

_But well, such is life. Sorry for the wait._

**Chapter Six**

Remy's timing had been far better than anyone, even he, could have imagined. He had not even cleared the confines of the compound when the mother of all distractions arrived. The X-men. As usual when it involved Sinister, the group was not happy.

The thief didn't know what had prompted this visit, nor did he especially care. After all, it had been made abundantly clear to him that he was no longer one of them. In truth, the only thing Gambit cared about was finishing his escape. Preferably without attracting the notice of either party.

As the battle raged below him, a single slender figure remained in his position, not daring to move so much as a single muscle. He prayed that no one would look up. Although, being in the shadows as he was, Remy doubted anyone would see him if they did. Given the people involved, the ceiling collapsing was probably the greater concern.

Gambit let out a slow, silent breath as the battle moved on. Despite the burning in arms atrophied from weeks of forced inactivity, he waited a few more precious moments before dropping noiselessly to the floor. Every good thief knew when to make an exit, and it was time and past to skedaddle.

In one of life's little coincidences, a group of the Marauders and X-men found themselves in front of Gambit's former cell. One of the group couldn't help but notice just how nervous that seemed to make their opponents.

Wolverine's claws came out with an audible snikt. "What's behind the door bub?" A hint of spice in the air was driving the feral mutant's senses crazy. He knew he should know that scent. But it was too faint, there was too much blood in the air.

A sneer crossed Scalphunter's face at the words. "Nothing you would care about X-man," he turned the title into an insult. He and Remy had more than their fair share of differences, but they had been friends once. And he was not happy about how the other team had treated the thief.

At least they had bothered to patch Remy up after nearly killing him. Besides which, getting slashed by Creed's claws was a way faster way to go than freezing. Like anyone who spent any time at all around Mr. Sinister, Scalphunter knew that hell wasn't warm. It was cold, very cold.

Wolverine shared a glance with his comrades, unconvinced. "I think we'll be the judge of that." A telekinetic shove by Phoenix flipped open the small panel, reconnecting the room with the outside world.

However, the voice that emerged was not the one the Marauders were expecting. "Let me out of here!" Arclight screamed, banging on the wall in spite of how useless she knew it was. She was going to castrate that stupid thief.

Rouge smirked. "I guess you were right sugar," the southerner drawled. "We really don't care."

The Marauders on the other hand looked faintly ill. "The boss," Vertigo announced at last. "Is not going to be happy." If anything, that was an understatement. Sinister might just kill them all when he got back. He'd make them remember it too.

Scalphunter forced a laugh, mentally taking back everything he had thought about Remy mere moments before. "Maybe he won't be so upset," he tried to convince both himself and the others. "I mean, it's not like this is the first time. Right?"

"And at least this time Gambit didn't blow up the base," another put in hopefully. On that occasion there hadn't been a single piece of rubble in sight bigger than a man's hand.

This however caused the faces of the X-men to fall. More than one of them looking at Rouge accusingly. She had said Remy was dead. Obviously there was a great deal she hadn't said.

Unluckily for both groups, the Cajun wasn't quite done. A mile down the road Gambit smirked, exhaling a long plume of smoke from the cigarette he had lit with the brush of one hand. He looked like nothing so much as a large panther as he lounged on the motorcycle he had, shall we say borrowed.

Red on black eyes flashed, Remy's smirk only widening as he regarded the long line of gasoline that stretched all the way back to Essex's munitions room. Really, you would think his Father would know better by now. He took on last draw on the cig before snickering.

The thief had always wanted to say this, but a proper opportunity had never before presented itself. "Hasta la vista baby," Gambit drawled in his best Arnold Swartzenager voice. He flicked the lit cigarette into the gas, kicking the cycle into high gear as the line of flame raced back from where he had come. His wild laugh lingering in the air long after he had disappeared from view.

_Omake_

"What do you mean he stole my motorcycle!!!"

_Finis_

_Note: feel obligated to point out I strongly disapprove of smoking. Remy Lebeau is a fictional character. He doesn't have to worry about lung cancer. You do. _

_Thought about there being an epilogue, but decided against it. It's a given that Gambit will have to come to terms with his experience. Not just Sinister but also being left to die. He was sort of repressing during this story because he couldn't afford to break down._

_I figure he will manage to make it through. It is just a couple more nightmares added to a lifetime of nightmares. Would make a great fic now that I think about it. Simply didn't fit in with the tone of this one._

_Hope you enjoyed Double or Nothing as much as I did._

_My next creation will be up as soon as I can manage._

_And find a place with internet. Pretty much decided on what it will be_

_But would welcome any thoughts you may have for the fic after that._

_Remember, my plunnies are posted under "Scribbles & Scratches"_


End file.
